


401 Overlook

by goodisrelative



Category: Flashpoint
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-05
Updated: 2010-12-05
Packaged: 2017-10-13 13:09:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/137716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodisrelative/pseuds/goodisrelative
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neither talks much, but both are glad of the other's presence and the semi-understanding of their shared need.</p>
            </blockquote>





	401 Overlook

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Maya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maya/gifts).



> First there are betas to thank… which will have to wait until after the reveal of the authors or the recipient will ferret out the author! But they know who they are and thanks a bunch, both of you! I have no idea where this really came from, although the idea started floating around in November, which is the month of Veteran’s Day/Remembrance Day, so that makes the topic always close to my heart… especially with too many friends having served, still serving, etc. But I didn’t trust the idea that it would work for this at all. Not that the recipient gives a whole lot of direction in her Dear Yuletide letter! But she likes ordinary events and character exploration and I hoped this worked. Both Betas liked it and thought it went with the directions. And I managed to tie in some Christmas so it ends on a happy note.
> 
> The Recipient might even catch a few hints from something she wrote.
> 
> In a completely separate aside, the location that is the star of this piece has always touched my heart. The events that unfold there… the fact there are still those that go, just hits a place in my heart. There are too many in this world that have forgotten how many are standing tall to protect us, in too many countries and positions to really grasp. And there are still too many these days that give all. I can’t fathom Christmas away from family. Let alone Christmas in a war zone. Never forget these simple words etched forever in stone: Freedom is not Free.
> 
> Beta reveal: Thanks to Bets_cyn and groovekittie!

Sam can’t say why he starts coming – he can barely recall even when. He read about it and went. After that, he starts paying attention to the news and comes every time. He calls in sick; he takes personal time. He even gets others to switch days, if he has to.

 

Winnie sees him once there but doesn’t believe her eyes… until it happens again months later. That second time, when it isn’t just a glimpse out of the corner of her eye, she slips away from her friends and stands next to him. They don’t speak at all, but she covers his hand on the rail with her own and he gives her a haunted smile before he disappears into the crowd.

 

She never asks him about it at work, but when she reads about another procession four days later and finds she has the day off, she goes. It isn’t hard to spot him this time – there is only a few in the crowd, given the relatively unknown soldier and the fact it is a Wednesday morning too many years into a war people didn’t want to remember they are still fighting.

“My brother is there. Afghanistan, I mean.” She speaks this time, after the caravan of military vehicles is long out of sight, but neither has moved. “The last time was one of his unit. I send him toys and movies and letters filled with funny stories about all you guys and pictures of friends’ babies.” She turns to him then, knowing her eyes are glistening with unshed tears, unable to do anything about them. “Is that what I should do? I don’t know anymore. It’s all they ask for – it’s his third time there or over in the region anyway – but I wonder sometimes if it’s enough, if there’s something more… I don’t know.” She sighs and turns back to the Highway of Heroes. Now she wonders if she should have even spoken.

“It’s what keeps them going.” She’s surprised when he speaks, finally, too many minutes later to count. “You give them normal and home and there isn’t anything more you can do and it’s what they need the most.”

“Thank you, Sam.”

 

Two funeral processions later and Sam starts picking her up and they make the trip together. Neither talks much, but both are glad of the other’s presence and the semi-understanding of their shared need.

 

It’s Sam’s seventh and Winnie’s fourth when the Sarge notices the coinciding hours off. He doesn’t know what it is, but he knows they share something. Gregory Parker doesn’t ask. He’ll figure it out and see if it is something to worry about – that’s his job: protecting the team.

 

“Sam.”

Her voice is shaky and there is so much raw pain, he knows before he looks down at her face and sees her eyes reflecting a pain he can see in his own still. She opens her mouth to say more, but the words can’t come and he doesn’t need them because he’s already holding her as she’s falling, just like the tears are on her face.

“Shhhh. I know.” He’s holding her tight; he’s holding her upright. He doesn’t feel her weight; he feels the weight of her pain and tears because he knows it all too well.

“They said… IED. They said saved unit.”

The words aren’t sentences, but Sam knows what she’s saying. Her brother died saving his unit from an IED. He doesn’t tell her he’s sorry; he knows she knows that and that she doesn’t want to hear stupid sympathetic platitudes. Instead he answers a question she doesn’t yet know she needs the answer to. “It gets easier. The pain fades. I don’t think it ever disappears, but in time it won’t feel so completely overwhelming and all-consuming.”

“I want him back. I want him to walk through the SRU and tell me it’s all a mistake.”

“You know he can’t, Winnie.” He can’t give her the lies. He knows how much damage they do.

“I know,” she whispers moments later.

 

Jules walks in then and she blinks at the stab of jealousy that blindsides her at seeing Winnie in Sam’s arms. It dissipates a moment later at Winnie’s sobs and her own inner voice yelling at her that she has no hold over him since she let him go. The rest of Team One appears and Jules knows, even without Winnie’s sobs, that it’s something bad.

“Whatever you need, you let us know. I’m sorry.” Ed speaks first for the team.

Greg is still watching Winnie and Sam, adding pieces to the little he knows about their relationship. It’s telling she went to Sam first.

“We got your back, Win,” Spike says. To lighten the situation, he goes on, “I can rig up a special send off.”

Winnie stiffens in Sam’s arms and Sam knows the man doesn’t know how her brother died. He curses Spike’s words, but then Winnie surprises him.

She lifts her head and gives Spike a watery smile. “I think he’d like that, Spike. Gabe always liked hearing about your exploits. He thought the rats were inspired. And he loved hearing about Babycakes.”

Ed cringes at the mention of the rats and Winnie catches it, unable to hold back her small laugh.

“Please let us know all the details, once you know them.” It’s Greg who gently brings them back to the real topic.

“I will, sir.” Winnie takes a deep breath and then steps back out of Sam’s embrace. She catches his eyes and adds, “Thank you.”

Sam knows it’s more for the truth of his prior words then his arms holding her up.

 

They are all there in full dress the day Gabe takes his ride down the Highway of Heroes. This time Sam doesn’t have to take time – the entire team has the day off. This time it’s he who covers her hand on the railing as they watch the road well after the vehicles are out of sight.

The entire Team One watches the two and they all wonder why they feel like they are intruding on a private moment. Greg watches them silently and realizes they are so much closer than he realized… but it’s not a romantic relationship. He’s no longer worried about the team.

Jules feels that stab of jealousy again, but can’t begrudge two friends the closeness she can see.

Sam knows the team is studying them – Greg is trying to decide if this closeness is a threat to his team. Ed and Wordy are seeing it for the first time and wondering what exactly is between them. Jules is probably jealous but accepting. Spike, Sam was pretty sure, didn’t notice anything, too busy working out the send off he has planned. He knows the guy apologized for his words after he found out how Gabe had died.

Winnie is oblivious to all of them, too lost in her grief to even care what the others think. Sam’s hand is her only link to a world still turning.

There is the funeral with the 21 gun salute and a large crowd of uniforms – the police almost outnumbering the soldiers two to one.

 

A month after the funeral, Sam is at her place to pick her up. This time he holds her hand from the beginning and her tears start before the convoy is even in view.

 

After another one, Winnie realizes the weight on her chest is just a little bit lighter. She knows her brother is standing next to her and Sam on that bridge and she knows he is proud of her. For the first time since she heard the news, she can breathe without it feeling like there is a knife in her chest.

“Thanks, Sam.”

Sam looks over at her as they walk back to his truck and can see a spot of clear in her eyes and knows she’s finally seeing that the pain really will start to lessen with time.

 

Greg doesn’t think about Winnie and Sam until two and a half months after Lew’s death and the two and Spike are all out at the same time. It is Sam who called in for himself and Spike. He’s been too worried about Spike since Lew’s death to think about Winnie and Sam, but now he has to wonder just what the hell is going on with them. He still doesn’t see the significance of the dates and times they take off – even though the event is right there on the front page of the paper, staring him in the face.

 

It is Winnie’s idea, but it is Sam who executed it. He knows Spike wouldn’t fight him if Winnie is there too and he uses that to his advantage.

“You’re coming with us.” It isn’t a question or even a statement.

Even Spike can see there is no arguing. It’s the stone set of Winnie’s eyes that makes him stay silent.

Sam knows that everyone thinks he’s emotionally unable to connect with people – like he’s missing this social grace. What no one sees – even the Great Gregory Parker – is that he wasn’t always that way. But once you fall so many times on a broken step, you learn to avoid it. And Sam figures he’s been destroyed too often, too many times, to connect with anyone. Never mind he knows he’s damaged goods – so damaged no one deserves to shoulder that burden. At least not in the police. He can’t learn to extend that to the military, because that is from his past, from when he wasn’t so broken or so damaged. Winnie got through because of her connection with the military and just because of who she is and what she’s been through. Spike, Spike was special in his own way – the man is just the kind of person Sam had no defense against in the long run. The guy defended him to Spike’s team before they had accepted Sam. The kid is too much like a kid too much of the time. And since Lew’s death, that kid was gone. Sam wants – needs – him back. Which is why he liked Winnie’s idea. Spike needs to know others felt his pain and that one day, not soon, but one day, that pain will become less than all-encompassing.

“You’re coming with us, Michael. You need to be with others that know, that understand.” Winnie’s voice is soft, but sounds like steel.

Spike doesn’t ask her what the others know or understand – or even who the others are. He doesn’t care. He knows he should care, that he should be nicer, better. But he can’t bring himself to care enough to form the words. He just stares out his window at the scenery going by. He doesn’t recognize the route they are traveling. He wonders if he will ever care about anything again.

When they arrive, Spike knows where they are, but he can’t fathom why. He looks at Winnie first, but she just smiles sadly and takes his hand, leading him to a spot along the railing of the overpass overlooking Highway 401, the Highway of Heroes. He looks at Sam, but even Spike can see the pain in the man’s eyes.

They flank him – as if worried Spike might make a mad dash towards something, away from them, to who knows where. Winnie keeps his hand, but never speaks a word as the tears slide down her face. Spike knows they started the moment the convoy of military vehicles first came into view as tiny specks miles away. Sam is ram rod straight – standing at attention from the second the specks are visible until long after they pass out of view. Spike watches his two friends more than the vehicles, trying to understand why they brought him there, why it seems like the two come often. He shakes his head, trying to clear it, knowing he can’t because all he sees is Lew… except the image is almost fainter, if that is even possible.

“It won’t ever go away. Not the pain. Not the guilt. Not the gut-wrenching fear. I’ve come to accept that. But it fades, Spike. It all fades. Not over night. Not even nine months later. But in time, moment by moment, so slowly, you can’t see it, until one morning you wake up and for a split second you can breathe without the stabbing pain. Then it’s back and you think it was just a dream… until the next time… and the next, until it’s a moment and not a second. Until you can see that you will survive it because that’s what Gabe wanted. That’s what he fought for, that’s why he went back twice more until he was gone.” Winnie slips and never notices.

But Sam and Spike do and suddenly there’s movement at Spike’s left and Sam’s gone. Spike looks around and sees him on Winnie’s right, covering her hand still on the railing. Spike watches them, how Winnie looks up at Sam and questions without a word. He can see she sees something in Sam’s eyes as an answer and sighs. Suddenly Spike is looking into her eyes again and he blushes, feeling like he was intruding on something he had no right to be in. That makes Spike blink. It is the first time he feels anything but absolute despair.

“Sorry.” Winnie gives Spike a rueful smile. “I meant one day you’ll begin to believe and then accept that you will survive this despair, because that’s what Lew would want. And deep down you know that. Sam and I come here because each time, bit by bit, it helps us see that. It helps us come to terms with our losses. We both thought it might help you at least see you aren’t alone.”

Sam doesn’t speak. He knows Spike has to accept it himself – no words from anyone can force him to do it. But he does let Spike see the hell in his eyes for just a moment before he shuts that door again.

Winnie starts again. “We’ve been coming for a while and you are welcome to join us if you ever want to, Spike. We won’t force you again, but you are always welcome. We miss you. And I know Lew does too. It’s okay to let it get easier.”

Then there is silence and Sam and Winnie are half way to Sam’s truck before Spike even realizes they’ve left him to himself. He walks slowly, knowing they’ll wait, knowing they won’t care how long he takes. It’s that – the simple knowledge that they are just there waiting for him – that makes him take a breath and realize it was a deep one and that the world didn’t end.

No one speaks. It is all up to Spike; Sam and Winnie accept that. Sam drops Winnie off and then Spike.

 

It is two funeral processions later when Spike calls Sam to pick him up. Neither of them misses the smile Winnie can’t hide when they pick her up. Spike is surprised no one talks; but he doesn’t feel a need, he realizes, and he kinda likes that.

 

It is another month after that when Spike tells them “Thank you” one day in the SRU.

 

Winnie never feels the need to explain to the rest of Team One where she and Sam go, and by Team One, she really means Greg. Neither does Sam. They’ never talk about it, but it isn’t something they feel required to share. They don’t think Spike is in a place yet where he’d mention it either.

So Winnie is surprised the day Sergeant Gregory Parker stands at her desk watching her. It is a few weeks after the last time she and Sam took time off.

“You look good, Winnie. How are you doing?”

She looks up at him and smiles. “I’m better, sir. Not the old me and I know I never will be that me again. But I am okay with that.” She debates a moment with herself before taking a deep breath. “Standing up for the fallen heroes every time they come home helps to keep him close to me and I can keep the pain manageable.” She gives him the information he needs to figure out what he wants to know without him asking.

Greg wants to smack his forehead, but he won’t give himself away that obviously. “I am glad. You know I’m always available if you need to talk.”

 

“They stand over Highway 401, Ed,” Greg states later in his office.

“Jesus, I didn’t even think of that!” Ed shakes his head. It explains everything.

“I’m leaving it alone.”

“Yeah.” Ed agrees.

 

And that history, Winnie knows, brings them all to today. December 1st. The first Christmas without Gabe; the first Christmas without Lew. She asks Sam and Spike to pick her up. There isn’t a procession, but she wants to ask them first before she broaches it with the rest of the Team One.

Sam and Spike don’t miss the quietness of Winnie when she gets into the truck.

“Where to?” Sam asks – it’s her show.

Winnie blinks. “Um. I don’t know.”

Spike recognizes the dazed, unfocused look of her eyes and saves her. “Ashbridge’s Bay Park.”

They are quiet until Sam parks the truck.

They are standing on the beach when Winnie lets the words spew out. “I want to do something special for Gabe and Lew for Christmas. It’s the first one they’re gone. Lew loved Christmas. Gabe said it was the hardest holiday overseas.”

Spike sucks in a breath. It still hurts to hear his name.

Sam speaks. “What did you have in mind?”

“I think we should do a fundraiser and make a large donation in Lew’s name to some organization that helps the troops overseas for Christmas. Like one that lets them call home for free to talk to loved ones. Or one that sends care packages and gives them free internet access and a place to just kick back. I have some ideas, but I wanted to ask you before going any farther.”

“I think Lew would love it.” Spike is quiet when he finally speaks long moments later. “And I think we should all help out at the soup kitchen Lew always worked at during the holidays.”

Sam takes a deep breath and suggests, “Spike, I think you should suggest to Team One about the soup kitchen. I think they need to see you’ll be okay.”

“Yeah, I know.” Spike agrees. He knows Sam is right. And since he doesn’t want to fight Sam for saying it, Spike knows he is ready.

“Spike? Why did you suggest this park?” Winnie changes the subject.

“Lew always talked about it. He loved it in winter best because he had it mostly to himself.”

 

Winnie wonders later if the breeze was Lew letting her know he is still around and happy Spike is slowly dealing with Lew’s death and his own guilt. For the first time since she heard Gabe was dead, she feels like smiling like she used to with Gabe.

 

Because it is Team One, the fundraiser is interrupted by a priority one call, but almost $100,000 is raised and the Toronto cops know how to keep a party going. And Gabe’s unit loves the tribute to Gabe and has a matching donation in her brother’s name when they split the donation three ways.


End file.
